


Be a Burning Star if it Takes All Night

by StaticCat



Series: Killjoys Never Die [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Explosives, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticCat/pseuds/StaticCat
Summary: Kobra’s training with explosives ended when, on his first attempt, he mixed two ingredients that Ghoul had definitely and very specifically told him not to.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid (Danger Days)
Series: Killjoys Never Die [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593550
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Be a Burning Star if it Takes All Night

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder that part 1 of the series goes into their backstories. It isn't absolutely necessary to this story, but may be useful.

Fun Ghoul only knew the brothers for a few months before he moved into the diner with them. They were new to the life and had revenge on the brain, and they couldn’t help with the fight against BL/ind if they were dead. So Ghoul stepped up to show them how to stay alive. 

Seeing the way they clung to each other on the way out of the city brought back the memories of the worst day of his life; he knew exactly why Kobra lost his shit the way he did. Being the one to have grabbed them away from the Dracs made him feel responsible for them, which annoyed Ghoul to no fucking end because that sentimentality can get you killed in the zones. You just can’t save everyone.

But he did want to save those two. They were awkward as fuck around everyone but each other. Kobra Kid’s face never showed what he was thinking. Party alternated between being a nervous wreck and hiding everything behind a steel wall of ‘go fuck yourself.’ Once you got over how damn frustrating they could be, it was weirdly endearing. Like having a cat that chewed up all your wires and scratched the shit out of you when you got too close, but every now and then left a dead mouse next to your bed to tell you it actually does like you being around. They put up with Ghoul’s breakneck pace of life and disregard for property or his own wellbeing, just like the best kind of dysfunctional housemates should. And they were eager to learn everything Ghoul offered to teach them. This included shooting practice, obviously, but also setting up security and surveillance, the best places for scavenging, and explosives. 

But Kobra’s experiment with explosives ended when, on his first attempt, he mixed two ingredients that Ghoul had definitely and very specifically told him not to. Party noticed the mistake first and literally picked his brother up around the waist and dumped him on the ground five yards away before the solution had a chance to ignite, after which he stormed into the diner without a word. Ghoul’s reaction was the polar opposite; he lost his temper spectacularly, the one and only time he aimed his full tank of rage directly at Kobra. 

He paced savagely back and forth in front of him, absolutely furious. Dealing with explosives isn’t a fucking game and why don’t you goddamn listen to me and quit being such an irresponsible fuck, all screamed at a terrifying volume while he threw his entire upper body into making violent gesticulations. At the end he punctuated it all with a kick to Kobra’s helmet as it sat in the dirt and sent it flying into the scrub. 

After a blisteringly long walk in the middle of the afternoon to calm down and turn back into a human again, he returned to the diner and found Kobra leaning over the counter with a book and a bottle of water. He looked up when Ghoul entered with an expression that was the very definition of nondescript and simply held out the bottle. 

Ghoul took it with an angry flourish and glared at Kobra as he gulped it down. The bottle was empty and Kobra was still standing and just looking at him. Was this motherfucker not going to say anything? Fine, time to be the bigger man. More or less.

“I just don’t want anything to fucking happen to you.” 

Kobra’s face finally dropped that annoying neutral facade and softened, shifting his focus onto his hands. “Yeah I know. I fucked up.” 

“Dude, you could have died,” Ghoul said, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. “Do you know what that would have done to me? To Party?”

Kobra’s remorseful frown intensified. Ghoul dropped his arm and looked straight at him, anger completely gone and replaced with suffocating fear. “You can’t fucking leave me, not like that.” 

Kobra approached him slowly and wrapped his arms around the shorter man. It took Ghoul by surprise; Kobra hadn’t initiated or even allowed physical contact with Ghoul before. 

“I’m sorry,” Kobra murmured. And Ghoul could hear how thick it sounded coming out of his throat. 

Ghoul’s arms clasped around him and fisted the back of his shirt tightly. He blinked away hot tears and whispered again, “You can’t fucking leave me.” 

Kobra moved one hand to cradle the back of Ghoul’s head. 

“I won’t.” 

\--

That night Ghoul tossed and turned. The moon was too bright and his leg was asleep and it was too fucking cold. It didn’t help that the whole afternoon wouldn’t stop replaying over and over in his mind, like a song that wouldn’t end. 

He rolled onto his back for the third time and kicked his heels against the mattress with a grumble. He was so fucking tired. This wasn’t fair.

The door creaked open and he glanced up. Kobra’s shape was illuminated by the (too fucking bright) moon, and Ghoul lifted his head, wondering what he wanted. He expected something like, hey Party is stuck in a cactus again, or maybe, did you take my Ninja Turtles pillow (to which the answer was yes). Instead, he closed the door behind him and shuffled over to the mattress, wordlessly settling himself next to Ghoul. 

And Ghoul stared. Seriously, the kid who backed up when he got within two feet of him was now in his bed? Had Kobra hit his head, been replaced by a droid? But he just laid there, looking at Ghoul, fully aware he was awake and watching him back. 

“I meant it, you know,” Kobra murmured. “When I said I wouldn’t leave you.” 

A breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding rushed out of Ghoul’s chest. He was stuck, completely immobilized, as his brain sorted through every reason Kobra might have felt that right this moment was the time to repeat himself. But every circuit ended at the same place, and it sounded something like _he likes you._

“If you say it, you have to mean it,” he finally croaked out.

Kobra reached up and stroked one long finger down Ghoul’s jawline, eliciting a traitorous shiver. “I do.” 

Ghoul rolled over to face him fully. He searched his face, looking for the feeling behind the words he said, but all he saw was the gentle kind of sincerity that came from making genuine confessions. So he leaned forward tentatively, ready to back away from the slightest negative reaction, but it never came. His lips brushed gently against Kobra’s, and he felt the pressure of him returning the kiss. And then he was pressing just a little bit harder, testing Kobra’s limits, waiting for him to pull away. But he didn’t. 

He let himself get swept up in the warmth of Kobra snaking an arm around his waist and holding him close. His mind finally slowed down, the hot fast images of the day’s events replaced with just a gentle voice asking what this means and telling him not to stop. No reason came to mind why he should, so he didn’t. 

But then Kobra did, pulling away gently and settling his forehead against Ghoul’s. “We’re good?” he asked with the slightest level of trepidation. In anyone else it may have gone unnoticed, but Kobra was always so fucking cool that it came through clearly.

“Yeah dude,” Ghoul said, unable to keep a stupid grin from forming on his face. “We’re good.” 

Kobra smiled, that lazy barely-there curve to his lips, and placed a heavy kiss to his forehead before rolling over, pulling one of Ghoul’s arms with him and holding it close to his chest. It was maybe the corniest thing he’d ever done, but he nuzzled his nose into Kobra’s neck and inhaled, letting his earthy scent surround him and lull him to sleep. Finally. 

\--  
(present)

  


“Dude, are you sure this is gonna work?”

Ghoul looked up from the device in his hand with a scowl. “I don’t question if your stupid roundhouse is 'gonna work!' It’s gonna fucking work!”

“Yeah, but I’m fucking good at karate.” Kobra gave him a cocky smile to press his buttons even harder. It was just too easy when he got worked up.

“And I’m not good with explosives? I’m the best in the goddamn zone!” Ghoul talks with his hands a lot. And the more agitated he is, the bigger the gestures get. So Kobra wasn’t surprised at all when the explosion he mimicked with his hand was pretty fucking embellished.

“Ghoul-”

“Go inside with Jet and Party. I’ll be in in a minute.”

Kobra slunk forward and put his hand next to Ghoul’s on the workbench. “I just don’t want you to blow yourself up, okay asshole?” Ghoul let go of the gadget and cradled Kobra’s face in his hands. 

“I won’t,” he said softly, the reassurance strong in his voice. 

“Better fucking not,” Kobra mumbled. Ghoul really was the best at what he did, and although he had a reckless streak, this was one area where he never let it enter. Kobra wouldn’t be so nervous about him now, except that the first iteration of this new weapon had gone off early, and close enough to singe his eyebrows in the process. 

Ghoul kissed him quickly and stepped back. “You really can wait inside if you want. This won’t take long.”

And Kobra's eyes softened. “I’m not going anywhere, asshole.”


End file.
